


The black hole in my mind

by Hopeful_Foolx



Series: Whumptober 2020 [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (He Gets One), Angst, Day 7 - I've got you, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jon is just tired and done with the world, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs a Hug, No beta we die like archival assistants, So Martin scoops him up and wraps him in a blanket, This is Whumptober and I make it Fluff just watch me, Whumptober 2020, post episode 92
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Foolx/pseuds/Hopeful_Foolx
Summary: Post Episode 92 - Jon is tired, muddy, exhausted, cold and in pain. Martin intervenes. Because if an Archivist can't take care of himself or doesn't get the chance to, sometimes someone else scoops him up.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Pre-Relationship - Relationship
Series: Whumptober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945483
Comments: 8
Kudos: 162
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	The black hole in my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Is it still Whumptober if I make it so fluffy? Support can be completely emotional too, but here it is both. Martin's emotional and literal support.

I’ve got you

When Jon steps out of Elias’ office, he knows the Adrenaline is officially gone. He’s been hanging onto it by the tips of his fingers, but it can only do so much. Still he feels his eyes on him still, he feels like Elias is watching him and that is why he can’t just collapse right in the hallway, and frankly, it’s the only reason he doesn’t. Making his way over to the stairs feels like he is pulling the energy out of an empty battery.  _ Don’t bother with the doctor’s note _ . He can go back to work tomorrow. What time is it even? There are no windows in the hallway and it doesn’t matter, he can’t remember when he last slept. Maybe he can make it down to the cot and sleep there, where would he go anyway? Georgie. But he can’t really show up like this again, he is muddy and dirty and tired, gods he is so tired. He knows that he is in pain too, but it’s a dull ache compared to the urge to just lie down and he wants to cry because it’s pathetic, he has survived so far, why can’t he pull himself together now? It shouldn’t be that hard, and it’s not like he has a choice. What they just heard… What Elias did…    
He sighs and leans against the wall. Just for a moment. What Elias did… Binding them all to the Institute. He can’t help but see it as his own fault. And now Daisy and Basira and... Tim has every right to be as angry as he is. Everyone has. Everyone is, except for Jon. He is just tired. 

“Jon?” He slowly looks up. Martin. Martin doesn’t seem angry and he squints up at him slowly. He hasn’t seen him since he left the office, where did he come from? Did he just wait here? He can’t have come up the stairs or Jon would have seen him, would he not? 

“Jon, hey” Oh. That. 

“Martin” he sighs and it sounds too exasperated. He is, but not with him. More with the whole world, or maybe with the whole world except for Martin. 

“Are you alright?” He nods and pushes himself off the wall with his good hand, at least this is still working - but the world starts to spin as soon as he is on his own two feet and he nearly tumbles forward. He can’t even do that. But Martin catches him by the shoulders before he can even do much more than sway on the spot.   
“Hey, slow. It’s alright” He mumbles and Jon doesn’t answer, too occupied with trying to keep his vision clear. 

“I’m sorry, I should…” he mumbles at some point and gestures to where he thinks the stairs could be, “I won’t bother you much longer, just…” 

“Bother? Jon you just got  _ kidnapped _ , you have a right to be a little messed up. Let’s get you downstairs, alright?” A little messed up is good, understatement of the century and the century isn’t even that old yet. But he lets Martin put an arm around his shoulders and guide him down the stairs, away from Elias and the office, away from the sense of being watched. They can’t ever completely escape it, he knows. Never. He knows too much about the entities by now, he knows enough about Elias. 

“Do you have a place to go to? Your flat?” His flat. No, he doesn’t even know what happened to it. And to his things. Personal items. Anything, really. And he doesn’t want to go to Georgie’s like this, while not telling her would be worse, but he can’t deal with anyone right now, not with her concern, not with the need for explanations to where he went and what happened. He can’t deal with anything and anyone, he just wants to sleep or just lie down, somewhere dark and warm because he is cold and muddy and disgusting, and he… He doesn’t know what else. He sighs with the thought and nearly forgets that Martin even asked, until he says his name and Jon’s eyes snap open before he even knows he closed them. They feel hot and his face does too. He doesn’t cry. He feels like he does but he does not, no, not right now, Martin is so nice to him and asks and he...

“Not sure” he grits out and misses the last step with his closed eyes, but Martin catches him with ease. It should bother him. But he is just glad to have a problem less now and everything just pales in comparison. 

“Hey, easy” He mumbles and Jon would love to take that seriously - take it easy, take a break. But he can’t, Elias expects him back by tomorrow, is already writing him a stuoid form he doesn’t need because Elias is the bloody head of the institute. Why bother with these formalities when there is nobody to even see it?! It makes him irrationally angry but that dies down a moment later. He doesn’t have the energy for it. He just leans-    
His eyes snap open and he squints up to the same Martin who just had an arm around, who is now holding him. Who is bright red, but still… Smiling.    
“Sorry, I didn’t want you to fall” he sighs and Jon just… What does it matter. It’s the closest thing he got in weeks to some sort of comfort and he just lets his head fall to the side, against Martin’s jumper and it’s soft. He is distinctly aware of how he is dirty and bloody and cold but… Martin is soft and for some reason, he still holds him.    
“Okay Jon, listen” Listen, he can… He can do that, right? He listened to Elias before, and the others and all of them, so he can listen to Martin too. He should do that more often, likely, because Martin is a good person. He is warm, he makes great tea, he is always there. He is currently talking and Jon hums a  _ yes _ to the question if he listens, even if the rest blurs together. Martin keeps talking, and he has missed his voice. Is that a thing? Missing a voice? Maybe just missing Martin. That could be a thing. He keeps his eyes closed as he is sat down on something and words follow, 

“Wait here for a moment, alright?” and he hums again and leans against something solid and… Nothing. 

Everything else is a dream, it has to be. It passes in a dream-like haze, he walks and then not and then something is soft and something else is warm. He thinks there is water involved but doesn’t remember, and talking, he maybe even answers but isn’t sure. He is only sure about one thing and that is much later. Because he wakes up.    
Light streams through closed cheap blinds. He blinks and that is all he sees, the blinds, because they are next to the bed. The rest is pillow and heavy blankets, he turns away from the blinds and falls back asleep. He doesn’t dream this time. He just blinks and is awake again, the room slightly darker than before. There is a steaming cup on the bedside table and the door closes just as he opens his eyes. He doesn’t recognize the room. Even without his glasses, he just knows he’s never been here before. It’s cramped, the walls covered in posters and tiny greenish stars that he distinctly recognizes as glow-in-the-dark. It feels almost blissful to not move, the blankets up to his neck and over his shoulders, he stares at the cup of tea until he drifts again and is only woken by a very careful hand on his arm, then on his forehead, then his arm again. He sighs at the contact.   
  
“Jon?” The room is darker now and a light gives a faint yellow tint to everything. He blinks and sees Martin. Why is…    
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, but you need to eat or at least drink something, okay?” He blinks again but Martin does not disappear. Strange. He is dreaming again, isn’t he, but then he would blink Martin away and that doesn’t work. So he looks around the unfamiliar room, knowing that he woke up here before. 

“Where…” 

“You don’t remember?” He chuckles, “not surprising, you were so exhausted, I don’t think- Doesn’t matter” He smiles there is the faintest shade of pink on his face again.    
“You didn’t say where you wanted to go and I asked you if you wanted to come to my place. In retrospect you were not exactly… clear on your answer, but I figured… You couldn’t just stay in the  _ Archives _ .” He shakes his head as if he didn’t stay there himself for an extended period of time. 

“So I took you here. This is my room, it’s utter chaos, I know, I’m sorry for that but...” Jon shakes his head and slowly gets his arms under himself to sit up. His head starts to pound with the motion and pressure builds on his temples, he blinks up to Martin and sighs. 

“Sorry” he then mumbles because it’s the only thing he can say - Martin is dreadfully anxious and Jon is tired and he brought him home, home to where he lives when Jon is the one who screwed up. Who is at fault.

“What?” 

“I’m sorry I bother you here, after… after Elias, and getting kidnapped and your room-” His voice is hoarse 

“Jon, you literally just slept the whole day. I wouldn’t call that a bother. And my-” he stops and shakes his head, “I live alone now, so I can still take my mum’s room” He lived with his mother before. Right. Not anymore? He wants to ask what happened but he isn’t sure if he is in the place to do so, “You don’t seem to have a fever, but you practically collapsed on me so you need the rest” It sounds too good to be true. But no, they are running out of time, and what he sleeps now he needs to work on later. 

“Elias-” Martin chuckles.   
  
“What will he do? Fire us?” That is actually a fair point, Jon has to admit, and he won’t, because there is a ritual blooming in the background and so much to do, he doesn’t have time to rest, neither of them has, actually. But for a moment, he just gives up and lets Martin take responsibility. He can’t think well enough to do that himself, “Hey. It’s alright. It’s okay, you can’t do anything when you’re dead on your feet. A day of rest is better than having to take a week because you overworked yourself. How does that sound?” Reluctantly, Jon just nods.   
“Okay. Can I look at your injuries again?” He looks to his hands. 

“Those are not my clothes…” he mumbles looking at the sweatshirt covering them with its long sleeves, and when he shrugs them higher he sees the white bandages. It doesn’t hurt, he realizes suddenly, he aches, yes, but the burn didn’t stop hurting since he got it. Not now.

“Nope, mine. You were not exactly coherent and pretty much out of it after you showered” He turns an even darker shade of red, “But I did nothing else than tuck you into bed, don’t worry” Jon is too perplexed to even be embarrassed.    
  


“Oh, okay” he mumbles and hides his face in the teacup until Martin gently takes his hand and wraps a fresh bandage around it, inspects the cut on his neck and even checks his other hand. It’s blistered from the shovel and he wraps it again too. All while Jon just sits there, leaning against the wall behind the bed and letting him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Martin asks at some point, “You don’t have to. Don’t feel obligated, you know. But a lot has been happening recently” If he had it called the understatement of the century, that now is the one of the decade at least, “And I know you are not okay. So if you want to talk about it, or need anything…” he shrugs, “I’m here for you” 

“Why aren’t you angry?” he asks and traces the rim of his cup with a thumb, “Everyone is. Everyone but you” 

“Why would I? It’s not like any of us chose this, so…” He really doesn’t understand, “And I guess everyone being angry is like… It doesn’t really help. So why would I be too?”

“Because it’s my fault?” He tries carefully. 

“Yes, it is” Martin raises his eyebrows, “you totally told Elias to curse our contracts, and kill your friends. You definitely also really wanted to get kidnapped and hurt, and framed for murder. That makes total sense to me” 

“It’s not what I  _ meant _ ” he mumbles and stares down at his empty teacup again. He doesn’t know what his face shows. He feels it burn and desperately hopes he doesn’t start to cry again, because he thinks he did before and it’s too much already.

“But it is what I do. You’re not responsible for us, Jon. And you didn’t mess up, you didn’t choose this as much as we didn’t. And even if I was angry with you, which I am not, I wouldn’t just… Leave you there” His hands fidget with each other until they suddenly stop, “I care about you. We all do, even Tim” No, Tim is too angry, too hurt, and sees him as too much of a monster already to-

“No, I am sure-” 

“Jon, stop. Just take it and relax for a moment, okay?” He plucks the cup from his hands and sets it aside, “You are my boss, yes, but you are also my friend. And I care about you” he explains and Jon can’t meet his eye and so he doesn’t, and Martin doesn’t make him. His words are careful, measured, as if he’s been practicing them, and knowing Martin, he did. Though he is grateful for it - because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he needs it. He needs Martin, more specifically. And he needed to hear what he just told him.    
“Now, and you can say no, would you like a hug?” Jon closes his eyes, feels his face go even redder and nods. 

**Author's Note:**

> (Maybe I'm just touch starved though)  
> Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
